Oblitus Mundi
by Elysea
Summary: They may have no legs, but they can walk. Haven't you heard that song? — Latin America. Collection.
1. the lines between (peru & bolivia)

•** disclaimer.** APH © Hidekaz Himaruya | LH (Peru/Miguel) © kuraudia | LH (Bolivia/Julio) © kitsunekyubi44

• **&.** {historical; not so much though}

* * *

**the lines between**

_the birds all left, my tall friend,  
as your body hit the sand._  
**(of monsters and men****)**_  
_

« • »

They were not brothers.

Miguel and Julio—before those names became their human identities—used to be faceless shadows in the battlefields where their ancestors fought against each other for the sake of their respective worlds; for their families, for their people, for their home. But they were enemies of a different kind. The wars were part of their lives; they were connected through conflict and both of them were fine with that. This was part of their worlds too; it was the natural course of things, how everything was supposed to be. Although sometimes they both liked going against the rules a little; those were the times when they would stand in the highest place of their lands, look at the distance and smile, knowing full well that one of them was on the other side of the line, smiling right back.

But one day, God descended upon them.

His skin was white like the sea foam and he was covered with fire and thunder, while his eyes made of light and forest reminded them of the sun setting behind the good old trees that had watched over them for centuries. He was perfect, like a legendary god should be. And like any god, he had the power to destroy everything they knew if he wanted to.

Their bond was not an exception.

They didn't meet again for a very long time. Miguel learnt that gods have names too and his was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo or, in the correct forms of respect, _Boss Spain_. He was kind most of the time; he taught him many things about his world, which apparently was the only world for Miguel and all the others who shared with him the same fate. Even though deep down Miguel refused to believe that the life before Antonio was nothing but a mere illusion, he remained silent because he was God. And if he was not, he was still all he had now. Maybe this was the natural course of things, maybe Inca—his magnanimous and dear good old Inca—was destined to disappear from the start; maybe he was right where he was supposed to be.

But there was nothing natural in the way fear took possession of Julio's eyes when they saw each other again.

_(Julio never looked at him like that; not even in the battlefields, not even once.)_

Miguel had no weapons in his hands; no intentions to do him any harm. But there was this line separating them anyway, just like the horizon of a lifetime they didn't share anymore. Julio didn't change at all; he was exactly like Miguel remembered him. Julio would have wanted to be able to think the same about Miguel, but now he wore dead colors over his sunlit skin and everything—from the way he stood to the light that used to be in his eyes—had changed in ways Julio had no wish to understand. But it still scared him, because he was alone anyway. He left his guard down and fell in that outsider's hands; he was taken away from his people and set in the house of the shadow of the one he used to respect as an enemy.

This was not his enemy, but a reflection of what he would become now.  
_(One of them, one of them.)_

And the simple thought of losing what Aymara left in him scared him to death.  
That was when he finally broke down and cried.

Miguel remained silent once more, while his hands clenched unconsciously at the unexpected spasm of pain that crossed his chest. He knew those tears and that desperate cry, because he had been there before too and sometimes he still was. Because no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't forget Inca and all the things he did for him, even if his death was meant to happen.

It was so lonely to be God's favorite son.

Before Miguel could even understand what he was doing, his delicate white shirt was already on the floor and his feet were moving on its own. He embraced Julio with all the strength of his little arms; Julio held his breath just a second before starting to cry again, because this was a kind of gesture he wasn't familiar with and it was probably something Miguel learnt from the outsider too. They had to be breaking all the rules of the universe, Julio thought, for no one ever touched him like that; none of this was part of his world. But even so, there was something so comforting in the warmth Miguel's dark skin irradiated or how his lips moved softly against his hair, mumbling words Julio wasn't able to understand yet.

Nevertheless, there was one that seemed to hold a grip on Julio's head.

_Brother, brother, brother._

_(You have always been my brother.)_

* * *

• **notes. **

**1.** I want to have all of my fics somewhere and I finally accepted that I'm too lazy to translate them to Spanish.

**2.** Sorry about the mistakes; writing's always a good way to practice a foreign language.


	2. the art of screwing up (haiti & DR)

• **disclaimer.** APH © Hidekaz Himaruya | LH (Haiti/Rene) © karasuhimechan | LH (Dominican Republic/Gregorio) © know

• **&.** {vampires!au— not the twilight kind; _domiti_}

* * *

**the art of screwing up**

_boy, you have got to be  
the finest thing in history.  
_**(boa)_  
_**

« • »

**1.**

You know how there're some things in life that are extremely impossible to understand?

Well, vampires don't have to go through that kind of trouble, simply because they're part of that world humans don't want to get into. In fact, vampires don't have to go through any kind of human trouble because all they actually care about is their source of food; nothing more, nothing less. Basing us in this simple principle, you can't really blame the vampire society for looking funny at Rene Oge. He may not put on the greatest façade ever to attract his victims, but his looks and the _Traditional Signs to Discover If Your Boyfriend Can Sparkle in the Sun_ weren't exactly alike. Besides, he had this rare aura of mixed Caribbean exoticness and dark mystery constantly surrounding him and that made him one of the most beautiful vampires ever created. They all know how easy humans are; how strong their weakness to beauty can be.

So we can safely assume Rene Oge could have anyone in the world; any person he wanted to fulfill his hunger, man or woman.

And of course, he just had to settle his eyes on that one and only random oblivious Dominican guy who didn't give a damn about his special aura.

To be fair, he was the one who had nothing special to begin with. Even if you have to be kind of _particular_ to go around the world wearing some weird name like Gregorio with pride, he didn't fit with Rene's guide of What's Acceptable in a Possible Next Victim (or even in a human being in this guy's case). He didn't even notice him in that crawled party —one of those where a person can disappear the entire night by being taken to an intimate dark corner by a stranger's hand and no one would be surprised— in the first place, but he couldn't help turning around his head to stare at the idiot who asked him: '_what are you doing wearing my hairstyle?'_ out of the blue.

Rene really wanted to believe that this was some sort of joke or something, even if the guy was giving him a death glare not even his comrades dared to send in his direction. He even had the nerve to look indignant, despite the obvious drunken flush in his face and the slippery tone of his words and how much of a stupid question that was. Rene tried being polite for the first twenty seconds, but he failed miserably because he didn't deal precisely well with being accused of something he didn't do. And this 'something', as ridiculous as it was, landed in an all night discussion that didn't make sense at all; not because somehow they kept fighting through different topics that had nothing to do with hairstyles, but because Gregorio ended up laughing about something Rene doesn't even remember saying and patting happily his shoulder.

Rene still doesn't get it; how a person can be in the middle of a fight and suddenly just burst into laughter as if you were a friend all along. But that was when they finally introduced to each other and Rene did it only because he didn't know what else to do in that moment. As the night went by, it never occurred to him, not even once, that he could just have walked away and leaved the guy talking alone.

Needless to say, he didn't have dinner that night.

• • •

**2.**

It's rather common for vampires to play with their food before eating it, just to make things more interesting for a change. That's why no one really stopped to think twice about why Rene was taking his sweet time with that party boy. They were a little curious at first because Rene is not the player kind; he usually just goes straight to the point. But hey, maybe he finally got tired of being so fucking boring and decided to try something new. They were almost happy for him, really.

And it could have stayed that way, if not for the little fact that six months have passed and the guy is still alive.

Of course, they won't ask (they may be vampires, but a kick in the balls still hurts like hell anyway). It's just that in their society, when it takes so long for a vampire to finish a determinate victim, it's because there're other instincts playing their role in the game. The kinds of instincts that make you want to have a partner to spend the eternity with. It's not easy to explain because even the vampires going through this state are not usually aware of this happening to them, but at some point they do and then the need grows until all there's left to do is surrender.

Still, they won't ask a damn thing. Just for their balls' sake.

(Maybe even a loner like Rene Oge could have someone destined for him.)

• • •

**3.**

Even if someone asks him, Rene wouldn't know how to answer.

There's still nothing special about Gregorio. It's easy to make him laugh and when he does, he throws his head to the sky and his laughter fills the air and becomes the only sound in the universe, noisy and contagious as it is. His eyes darken when Rene says something he doesn't like (which is often) and a couple of dimples appear on each side of his mouth when he smiles (which happens twice as often), even when he's fast asleep. And how Rene knows this is not of your business, thank you very much.

Gregorio is very confident too or so he appears to be. But even if that's just a mask, Rene can't help but wonder how he does that; how can he talk about himself all day and be so optimistic and happy all the time, as if the world were something worth of his smile. Sometimes he wants to ask him, but Rene knows that it's better if he doesn't play that card: he hasn't answered any of the questions Gregorio has made so far, like what does he do all day that they can only meet at night or why does he always have to cover his mouth when he finally laughs. It wouldn't be fair to him and besides, Rene knows Gregorio is waiting for him to make a mistake like that to rub in his face all the silences in their conversations and demand an explanation. That is so like him too, these… little games he plays instead of just asking whatever he wants to know. Why Gregorio still puts up with him, even if he knows nothing about him, is something that goes beyond his understanding. Gregorio has that kind of effect on him; he makes Rene feel like he's not wiser than a boy of the age he looks like.

Rene is still wondering about that tonight, but then he notices some dust in Gregorio's cheek, probably as a result of working all day fixing the walls of his bedroom because _'man, they're about to fall over my head and my room deserves a much better color anyway'_. It's a little distracting the contrast between its white color and Gregorio's skin, so before Rene can stop to consider his actions, he wipes the dust away with his thumb. He was not ready for Gregorio's reaction.

"Dude, your hands are freaking cold!"

Rene freezes in his spot, all the alarms in his head sounding at the same time (_how could he forgot, how could he forgot?! There was a reason why he avoided touching him, how the hell could he forgot?!_). He takes a step back that goes unseen because Gregorio immediately stands closer to him and touches his forehead, searching for any signs of fever.

"God, you are really _cold_– damn it, why didn't you say something before?!" Gregorio snaps, sliding down his hand to cup Rene's cheek. "H-how do you feel? Do you want water or something- well, maybe we should get a doctor instead of– for fuck's sake, Rene! I will get you anything, I- I will _do_ anything, so stop staring at me like an idiot and say something already!"

Rene honestly wants to, but he cannot concentrate properly to make up a good lie when Gregorio suddenly takes his hand in his. He rubs them firmly, stopping now and then to exhale hot breaths over his skin and keep scolding him too, _of course_, and then he starts all over again. Rene can't take his eyes off of him; of his warm gaze glittering with honest concern and the way his thoughts seem to move faster than his mouth, wild and crazy and _beautiful_ as Rene has never seen him so far. His own heart is beating so loud in his ears that he feels a little lightheaded somehow.

But suddenly he remembers he has no heart.

And then everything makes sense.

• • •

**4.**

Usually vampires don't realize they want to share their existence with somebody else.

It's hard to explain when something like this happens because they all are too used to the loneliness and the shades of grey, white and black in their life. They're beasts, not humans; maybe they were in some other lifetime, but not anymore. So the ways of understanding the world, all the rules of the universe, everything changes forever until all there's left to do is forget as the centuries pass by.

But there's a moment in their frozen time when someone different from the others appear and they don't know just how precious that difference is until _they_ start feeling different too; until 'forget' is nothing but an useless word and your past seems to stand up from its grave to get your heart working again. They remember what it's like to be human. Still, nobody can really explain how this is possible. It happens. (_Thank God__ it happens._)

And when Rene finally understands this, he can't help but silently congratulate himself for the strength of his self-control. But enough is enough.

He takes the last step that was still separating them to caress the back of Gregorio's neck with his free hand. The sudden gesture stills all of his partner's moves because this is the first time they actually touch and that changes everything. All around them feels different; the colors, the sounds and even the air only one of them is breathing. Gregorio shifts a little, nervous with this newfound intimacy. Don't get the wrong idea; he has been with a lot of girls… the thing is Rene is not a girl and that _totally_ justifies his lack of information about what to do next, so there.

Still, Gregorio wishes he wouldn't blush as much as he is right now.

Rene notices too and that little detail makes him smile, not only because he knows Gregorio is not the kind to easily blush, but because he realizes now that the heartbeats he heard a few minutes ago weren't his; they were Gregorio's. He gently presses his fingers to the warm skin of his neck to prevent Gregorio from jumping off the bridge behind them to escape, but he approaches his lips slowly enough to give him time to say something. Gregorio's grip tightens around his hand, but he doesn't let go and he doesn't say anything to stop this either, so Rene takes his silence as permission and lets his recovered human desires take over him.

In time, Rene would remember this as his very first kiss.

• • •

**5.**

Rene can't possibly know if this happens to all the vampires, but even if he desperately desires to have Gregorio for all the eternity, he doesn't really want to transform him into what he is. As the kisses grow deeper and deeper and a couple of fingers start to find its way under the clothes every night, Rene becomes more and more attach to the warm of Gregorio's body. Sometimes Gregorio would fall asleep on his lap and Rene would watch over him, stroking his chest and feeling his heart pounding against his fingertips; just for the pleasure of hearing the life flowing like waves through him. It's a kind of peace he hasn't experienced in a very, very long time and he's not sure if it will stay the same after the transformation.

And then there're some other times when the needs of his nature and the recovered human instincts don't mix precisely well. Gregorio, Rene discovered some days later, is pure passion He doesn't just kiss you; he slides his hands down your ribs, slowly enough to make you shiver under his touch and pushes you against the wall and intertwines his thighs with yours, so all you're able to feel is him. He rubs very slightly the tip of his nose against your cheek until it starts to tickle and when your lips curve into a smile, that's when he kisses the corner of your mouth before tracing the rest of it with his tongue. Gregorio quietly laughs into the kiss when Rene's mask falls to the ground and sighs pleased. It's a good thing that Gregorio takes note of that instead of Rene's fingers sticking like claws to his back to restrain himself from doing anything… not humanlike. Biting his lower lip and patiently sucking all his hot blood, only leaving him with enough strength to drink his and finish the ceremony could be a pretty good example of what he means.

It's getting more and more difficult every single night because apparently Gregorio has been holding up all these months too and now that they're sure of what they are to each other, patience is not a virtue anymore. And Rene has to fight every hour to keep alive his good old self-control and force himself to believe that Gregorio is telling the true when he pushes him onto his lap and strokes the inside of his thighs or licks the skin below his earlobe (or does the two things at once) and says with that cocky smile of his: _"I just want to get you warm"_. Oh, if he could only know…

"Hey, you know what?" Gregorio whispers into his ear, running his hands under Rene's t-shirt and touching the bones of his back.

"What?" Rene asks, lifting his head up to see his face. It's funny how the light on the nightstand plays with the shadows of his face while they're sitting there, on the floor, with Gregorio's back against his bed and Rene onto his lap with his arms around his neck. He wishes they could lie down in the bed, if it weren't for the tools and the paint on it.

Gregorio grabs some of the golden strands of hair on the back of his neck and gently pushes his head back a little, firmly enough for Rene to want to insult him. However he didn't get the chance to say anything because all the words got stuck in his throat, in the exact same point where Gregorio chose to leave a kiss. His lips feel soft against his dead skin; kind of innocent, so dearly human. It makes Rene wonder if this is the kind of touch that would make him feel those famous butterflies everybody likes to talk about, even if it's ridiculous for a vampire to waste time thinking of silly things like that. He can't feel the butterflies because those like him can only feel the eternity and the loneliness, the hunger and the longing this cursed existence brings upon them. But when Gregorio kisses him again, this time with his mouth open, Rene feels that there's _something_ more under the boiling desire and need that's sending uncalled waves of warm through his frozen veins.

(_Remember those things impossible to understand…?_)

And just when he was about to think that he wouldn't change this moment for anything in the world, Gregorio buried his teeth in the cold flesh of his neck and sucked as hard as his blurred mind encouraged him to. Rene's reaction was so unexpected, so out of character, he even surprised himself: he gasped loud enough to destroy every reason why they closed the damn door in the first place; he threw his head back further and arched his back almost violently, bringing their bodies closer and earning a heated growl from Gregorio when his legs' grip tightened around his hip.

Rene was panting heavily when Gregorio let go of him, even if he has no reasons to. His shock practically touched the clouds when Gregorio smiled wildly at him. He was overwhelmed by the furious tide of emotions firing up hundreds of years of self-control only in a few seconds and now his vampire instincts were screaming at him to do what was his right by nature, but he was feeling human enough to be torn between punching him for catching him with his guard down and asking him to do the same with the rest of his body. And of course, Gregorio just had to open his mouth one more time and finish screwing everything up- the oblivious _bastard_.

"I _love_ biting."

_Well, shit._

This night, Rene knows, is not going to end well.

* * *

• **notes.**

**1.** oh, I forgot! I accept constructive criticism.


End file.
